The Devil's Song
by xxxxxxxxxxxx21
Summary: One boy finds out what he is to become. It's all about my OC Vincent Valentine Caroll. There wil be the entire thing posted later. CMA is back! Whoo! R


**This is oneshot I wrote for an English paper and people loved it so here it is. By the way, this is a Sonic the Hedgehog oneshot though the characters aren't mentioned. In the main fic that will be posted later, I will have the characters in the there. This is just from my char's POV. Message me and comment! CMA is back! WHOOT! **

The Devil's Song

VINCENT'S POV

The sunlight wakes me, the bright white-hot light focused on my closed eyelids. I turn my head and open my eyes to stare at the pillow beside me.

"Happy Saturday morning," I murmur, rubbing my eyes from sleep. Groggily, I roll out of bed and slowly walk to my window.

It's snowing.  
It's snowing lightly but it is snowing.  
Again.  
I know that it is the middle of February in Boston, but still. I don't live here all the time. I usually reside down in Florida, but the school I go to is here.  
I live at school, 'cause it's a boarding school, and I share a room with two other guys, my best friends Sol Lite McNair and Milo Arnold Gardner. They are both still asleep. It IS only 8:00 in the morning.  
My school is not exactly for normal students.  
But it is not for those that have issues either.  
I cannot give any information on what my school is, just that it is for special kids and most of my family went to this school.  
Things happened at this school. Things continue to happen at this school. At this school, I found out what I am. At this school, I found out who I'm going to be. At this school, I found out my destiny.

My name is Vincent Caroll. I am seventeen and in my last year of the boarding school I go to. My birthday is March 16, 1992. I have jet black hair and silver eyes with red rings around the edge of the iris. My usual hobbies are writing and playing soccer. As I have said previously, my two closest friends are Sol and Milo. I trust them with everything, including my life. They both know just about everything about me, possibly more than they should.

I live with my aunt, uncle, and sister. I have lived with my aunt and uncle since I was six, for my parents had problems and my dad wanted my sister and me safe during these troubling times. I was brought up by my uncle, he taught me everything I know and much more. My aunt doesn't pay much attention to me, but I stopped caring after about a year. The last thing I want now is more attention than I already have, especially with what's been happening these days. My uncle, Dr. Caroll, and my aunt, Mrs. Caroll, are rich. _Very_ rich. My parents are low-class, just below middle-class, so being six years old and moving into a house a billion times bigger than the one I had previously lived in was a _huge_ shock. And Austin only being three, she never knew anything else. She barely remembers our parents, for they lost touch with us after the first year, until last year.

Our living space is plain, brown-colored walls and white carpeting. We have two rooms:" the bedroom and a room for just hanging out. The beds have our own bedspreads on them, chosen by ourselves; mine is plain black, Sol's is a bright yellow, and Milo's is light green. Our sheets match our bedspreads and because it's cold, we have other blankets. The beds are all pushed up against the wall facing the same direction. I don't know why but they are. We have two televisions in or room, one across from the bed and one in the living alcove. The alcove is like a living room only smaller. We have a desk next to the TV in the alcove and another in the bedroom next to Sol's bed, which is next to the window.

Sol mutters something in his sleep. He's the guy to my right. I sleep on the middle bed in our room. Not my choice 'cause I usually like to sleep near the window, but I guess it's whatever. Milo's bed is on my other side, near the entrance to the alcove. Sol's appearance and personality is just like his name, kind of sunshine-y. He has yellow hair with black streaks and light, light blue eyes. He usually wears a bunch of yellows and blues and is always happy as can be.

"No, Daddy…," he mumbles. "I don't wanna fight the evil Mud-Monster that threatens the lost city of El Dorado underwater in my underwear." He's always that ridiculous. Milo and I have no idea what his problem is.

He rolls over in his bed. I only see a small tuft of his blonde and black-streaked hair as he moves.

I can't say anything to that. I cannot even laugh. It is just too weird…

Milo suddenly snaps up from his bed, his long tan hair messy and his hazel eyes wide.

"What did I miss?" he asks frantically, turning his head from side to side quickly, his long, tan-and-yellow-colored hair repeatedly smacking him in the mouth. He sputters, spitting his hair out of his mouth with a disgusted look on his face.

Milo is really weird. Sol and I can never tell how he's feeling. He's a generally moody person though. We hardly see him smile and he has his arms crossed most of the time. His appearance is usually described as "ehhh," meaning that he doesn't look that great, but he's not all that ugly either, so we do not know how to describe him at all. As said before, he has long, tan-and-yellow-colored hair. It's kind of in dreadlocks but they are really thick, about three inches around. He has black bands wrapped around them and they hang down his back most of the time. He's biracial, and his skin is a pale brown. He's sensitive about his ethnicity, so we don't bother him about it, or at least try not to. Sol acquired a nasty black eye for saying something offensive to him the first day we moved in together.

"Nothing, I think. But Sol has to fight of the Mud-Monster from the lost city of El Dorado in his underwear," I answer him quietly, careful not to wake Sol. Sol's cranky when he's involuntarily awakened, which is probably one of the only times he's irritated.

"Again?" Milo flops back onto his bed. "Doesn't he do that, like, every week?"

"More like every other day, Milo," I sigh, opening my trunk of belongings near my bed. I only use my trunk for my clothes. These two guys are too messy for me to put them in the wardrobe or dresser. They might steal my clothes anyway or at least I'm sure Sol would. He and I have similar clothes so he would confuse his with mine and I would never see them again.

I pull out my personal uniform: black, straight-legged jeans; black t-shirt; red, high-collared jacket with two rows of eight black buttons; and black Converse high tops. I chose this my sophomore year and have been wearing it since.

It's not that I wear the same clothes every day; I just buy multiples of the same clothing items. I do switch up sometimes, wearing all black. I have an awesome black jacket that has a flare around my knees a bit, has a _huge_ silver zipper, is not as high-collared, and is much warmer. I haven't worn it yet; just like I haven't worn any of my leather collars that my friend Faith gave me for my sixteenth birthday. She gave me seven of them, three studded, two with short spikes, one with long, and the one with a large buckle. I was glad to get rid of the old cloth one I had with tiny silver buttons on it. It was really old and nasty. Most of the time, the administrators do not approve of us wearing collars because it is supposedly demeaning of our kind. Most of us wear them anyway. I've even seen teachers wearing them. It's kind of scary but it's whatever.

"Hey, Vincent?" Sol speaks from right behind me. I turn and I'm looking straight at his piercing blue eyes. I jump nearly a foot in the air.

Funny 'cause I didn't even hear him get up and he makes a whole lot of noise when he wakes up.

"Dude, do _not_ do that," I snap at him, maybe a bit more harshly then I needed to, but I'm insanely tired, and Sol talks in his sleep, so he kind of deserves it.

"Sorry, bro, but do you have an extra black shirt and jeans? I forgot to do laundry yesterday," Sol says, rubbing his eyes from sleep with a yawn.

"Don't I always?" I ask, wrinkling my nose with the thought of undone laundry.

I always do my laundry every Wednesday and Saturday to ensure that I always have clean clothes. I don't know what these two slobs do with their stuff.

I smack him in the face with a clean black shirt and hit him in the stomach with the jeans.

"Yes," Sol mutters, making a face as he takes the clothes. He walks out of the room to go to the showers, grumbling to himself about abuse. Well, I guess it is acceptable for him to be talking because Milo and I hit him all the time for no reason.

The weird thing about this school is, it's a really rich prep school and the rooms don't even have their own bathrooms. It's pretty stupid if you ask me. But no one usually asks me so I guess it doesn't matter that much.

I roll my eyes and place my clothes in separate piles on my bed. Milo eyes the piles with disgust in his green eyes.

"What is your problem?" I ask him, my eyes flicking from the piles to Milo's face. He always has to be disgusted about something. No matter what the something is, he's disgusted. Not one of my favorite things about him.

"Just wondering why you always have to be so neat. You're like a girl," he scoffs, pulling the covers off of him and glaring at me.

"That's a huge stereotype. Not all girls are neat and not all guys are messy and disgusting," I retort, throwing a foam baseball that is sitting on the floor at my other roommate. I throw things at people often. "Where did this baseball from anyway?"

"I dunno. Ask your other roommate," Milo replies, dodging the baseball. "I don't keep track of everything that goes on in here. That's your job, _Mommy_."

"Jerk," I say, rolling my eyes again. "Actually, sometimes I think I'm more like your mother than your friend. You guys don't treat me with any respect."

I noticed something this morning: I roll my eyes more than I should. And for pretty much no reason! I guess I'm just exasperated all the time.

"Well maybe that's your destiny, Vincey," Milo murmurs, his voice tinged with sarcasm, "taking care of the rest of us."

I change my clothes, folding my pjs and placing them on top of my trunk, thinking about Milo's words.

_Is that all I'm for? _I wonder. _Looking after these people without a real important purpose? Surely I'm worth more than that. _

The clothes begin to slide off my box. I catch them swiftly, unfold them, refold them, and replace them back on my trunk.

Milo mutters something from the edge of his bed. I do not know what, but I think it is supposed to insult me.

"What was that, Mee-lo?" I call him that when I either try to annoy him or he's annoying me.

"Nothing!" he gasps hurriedly. "Jerk."

"Whatever. I guess I'll see you at breakfast," I mutter, following Sol out the door. Slowly, I walk down the hallway and down the stairs in the main foyer of the boys' dormitories. Almost immediately I see my former friend Walley's bright purple and blue hair.

Yes, purple and blue.

Last year, a lot of crazy things happened with Walley's and my family, such as finding out that we share grandfathers and my granddad wanted to come and get me from my aunt and uncle. My mom is- was- Walley's mother's sister. In other words, she was Walley's aunt. Weird 'cause my mom never mentioned that she had family still living. Whenever my sister Austin or I asked, she would say that she, Dad, Dr. Caroll, and Mrs. Caroll are our only family.

No wonder Mom and Dad split up four years ago.

FLASHBACK

_Vincent presses his ear against the door, eager to listen to what Dr. Caroll has to say to his uncle. _

_"Jacob, I am very sorry for that," Dr. Caroll speaks into the mouthpiece. _

Sorry for what? _Vincent wonders. _

_"To tell you the truth," Dr. Caroll continues, "I knew that you and Marie wouldn't last a lifetime."_

Marie? _Vincent's thoughts are racing. _Mom!

_His father says something to Dr. Caroll over the phone. _

_"I see," Dr. Caroll replies. "All right, I'll tell them about the divorce. Good bye." _

_Dr. Caroll replaces the phone in its hook._

END OF FLASHBACK

"Why, hello, Vincent," Walley greets me formally, his green eyes dark with an emotion I cannot place. The round glasses on his nose gleam in the light.

Walley is a little strange, being rich and snobby and spoiled. He's always formal and never says anything horrible except to comment on the "common people." I cannot really say anything because my aunt and uncle are rich and I in a rich household for most of my life.

"Hi," I return the greeting curtly.

"How are things with your family? I hope that all is well," he states politely, peering at me over his glasses.

"Everything's fine I guess. How are things with my long-lost aunt and uncle?" I ask, not-so-politely. I can feel the old anger flaring up inside my chest. That _is uncalled for, _I think to myself. _What do I have to be angry with him for? I know some things are rigid right now, but I'm not angry with him. He did used to be my friend after all. _

Strange. I haven't felt this feeling since I was thirteen and first starting school here.

_I thought I learned to control this,_ I think, careful to shield my thoughts. A small flame is lit inside of me, brought on by the unknown. _Is someone or something telling me not to link myself with Walley any longer_?

My inner demon is going to unleash.

No. It can't!

_What's happening? _I wonder, my head beginning to throb and the room spinning in a disfigured swirl.

TRANSFORMATION

A tearing sound rips through the air as I sprout my two long, black, leather wings. A hot flash sears through my back and I cry out, my skin burning intensely. I sink to the floor, my legs crumpling under me. I hold myself around my midriff as my painful transformation takes place. Slowly, but surely, my wings extend until they cover a ten-foot span. The hot flash grows bigger and more painful as I suffer. It burns.

My transformations used to be random and unpredictable. I had to stay in isolation for a while after the first couple of times, for I tend to hurt people when I transform. My uncle had to keep a constant surveillance on me because of it. I even hurt Austin because she was too close during my transformation. She nearly died because of me and my lack of self-control. My transformations do happen when I'm in distress or angry as well, such as when I'm fighting a battle or arguing with someone.

I did change though. Dr. Caroll, my uncle, worked with me until I could control my power. He worked with me until I could change with my will.

Danger. Danger everywhere. Everyone needs to get out before-before I get out of control.

Before I lose my mind.

I am rather unconscious of myself when I change, my mind becoming completely blank when the temporary metamorphosis is complete. I am not aware of who I injure or who I kill when I am in my demon form. That is another part I hate about myself, I am able to kill everyone without the guilt of doing it until I am human again.

My already long black hair extends, my bangs covering my eyes and the back of my hair flowing down my back, down the center of my wings. My humanity is almost completely gone. I cannot see myself in a mirror, but I know that my eyes are a different color, the whites being black now and my irises and pupils are red. This should not be possible, but it is.

I look up at Walley, careful not to immediately jump at him and tear him to shreds. The people around him are frozen, staring at me with wide eyes. I hear the screams of visiting girls as they glimpse at my demonic form.

"Walley, run and get my uncle," I hiss at him through clenched teeth.

"But I cannot leave you alone!" he squeaks, his voice an octave higher than before. His green eyes are round with shock and fear. I temporarily feel sorry for him. I'd hate to have to deal with me at this time as well.

"It doesn't matter. Just do as I say and hurry!" I growl through clenched teeth as my unexplainable rage grows. I feel like my chest is going to be torn open any moment now. The pain is that great. It is like every human on earth is stabbing me with white-hot iron. It really _burns_. I have no control of the way my energy is channeled. Sometimes, it would flow to my legs or my arms, but most of the time it centers on my chest near my heart, as if trying to burn it right inside of me, destroying my very being.

My four canine teeth extend. They cut into my lips, causing me to bleed onto the carpet. The blood falls seemingly in slow motion. My head is spinning, feeling heavy with every flash of heat.

My jacket falls off and I'm left with a ripped black t-shirt on.

Ugh. That was my favorite jacket.

_Where is Walley with my uncle? The environment around me is going through the reaction! _I wonder in fear. My desperate need of help is nearly overshadowed by the urge to destroy everything around me. I grip the carpet in an attempt to keep myself steady and rooted to the ground. It's not working as well as it could. I inch forward slowly.

Dark energy ripples completely distort the air around me. The area begins to glow red and swirl around me. I cannot tell reality from fantasy or fantasy from reality. Is everything I know wrong?

People are choking, dying.

It's my fault. This transformation feels so much worse than the others, so much worse… Is everyone going to die here? Am I going to die here?

The heat is out of control. Sweat falls from my brow down my cheeks and chin. I screw my eyes shut. I cannot take any more of this. I feel the air swirling around my head, a miniscule tornado spiraling around the scene. The twister whips my hair from my face, bringing me relief from the heat, but the cold doesn't last long. The cold air is replaced by even more flame.

What happened to the control?

What I happened to the truth I once knew?

There is one large clock in the large lobby of the boys' dormitory and it has the _loudest_ ticking I have ever heard. This clock ticks with each passing, miserable second. _Tick-tock. Tick-tock._

The ticking is in my head and it cannot escape. My head is pounding with every click.

My eyes become unfocused, the entire setting swerving as the moments pass.

_Tick-tock. Tick-tock. _

Where is Walley?

_Tick-tock. Tick-tock. _

Why did he leave me here?

_Tick-tock. Tick-tock. _

Why did he leave me here to die alone?

A dark blur passes in front of me as I slowly fade out of this fantasy-reality.

"Vincent…," my uncle's voice calls to me as he crouches in front of me. I begin to black out as the clock rings at the hour.

_Tick. Tock. WRONG! WRONG! WRONG! _

DREAMING

I seemingly awake to see that I'm standing in the middle of a field, green and lustrous with grass and wildflowers. I look down at my body. I'm wearing all white: white pants with a white button-down shirt, white tie, and white jacket. Freaky.

There is a figure in the field, also donned in white. He walks towards me slowly.

Well, it seems slow. He reaches me in a matter of seconds.

It is Sol.

_Why Sol?_ I ponder. _If he wanted to talk to me, he could have spoken earlier. If I am going to dream,_ _I would think that I would dream of Echo. _

I shall not explain who Echo is. All I can say is that she is a very special friend of mine. She means more to me than life itself.

"Um, hi, Sol," I greet him cautiously, for who knows if this Sol is trustworthy?

"Greetings, Vincent." His voice is different somehow. More commanding and formal. "I wish to speak with you."

"Okay then," I say, still cautious.

"Do know what you are?"

"I think I'm half-human at least," I reply uneasily, shifting my weight from one foot to the other.

"Do you know what the other half is?" Sol is confusing me more and more with every word.

"Uh… No?" I reply, not sure of what he is asking.

Sol chuckles. Well, at least I _think _he's Sol. I'm not sure of anything anymore.

"Your father is a demon, Vincent."

"What?"

"Not the devil, but an actual demon. A devil's helper. The Lucifer's demon. And you are the next Lucifer."

My jaw drops in shock.

"_Lucifer?!" _I gasp in shock. "How can _I_ be the next Lucifer?! I'm not cut out for that! I don't think that I don't even _want_ to be Lucifer!"

"It's not a choice, Vincent," Sol tells me sternly. "It's your destiny! You can't back out of it."

"Well, _you _say that," I snap back. "I can and _will_ back out of it, no matter what."

"Are you not listening to me?" Sol yells, suddenly angry. "You were chosen to be the Lucifer. No one had a choice in this. And not everyone agrees with it."

"Well, I especially don't agree with it. Do you think anyone wants to be a demon that loses a fight against God?"

"Explain your powers then! Explain your transformations!" Sol shouts, his eyes blazing with fury. "What do you think those are linked to? Just you being a 'gifted' human? Huh? Is that it?" He actually used air quotes there.

"I don't know. And I don't really care." I cross my arms and turn away from the fake Sol.

Inside, I do care. I am really freaked out by this.

_What? _I mouth to myself.

Could this "destiny" be linked to my current transformation?

AWAKENING

My eyes open. I try to sit up. I'm in the medical ward of the school, in a hospital bed. There are other people in the ward. I can smell them. I have leather straps around me from my arms down.

My wings and the heat are still in existence.

_No! _I think, panicking.

I struggle against the straps.

_No! No! NO!_

"Stay calm, Vincent," My aunt's voice speaks soothingly. She rubs my shoulder in an attempt to calm me down. I must have been very difficult. She's never this good to me. Austin is standing next to her, her long straight blonde bangs in her face and her hair a mess down her back. .she appears to have just woken up. Either that or she's just frazzled.

"It's okay, Vincent," she says quietly. "We're with you now." She stares at me with pained blue eyes.

I glare at her and she winces at the fiery look in my blood-red eyes.

Austin is my fourteen year old "angel" sister. To everyone but me, she is perfect in every way. She even _looks_ like an angel, with her long golden hair and sparkling blue eyes. She's pleasant to everyone, including the people that don't even like her. She's incredibly gentle and will help anyone in trouble. The way she speaks is always quiet and kind. She hardly yells and her laughter rings like bells. Most of the time, I can hardly stand to be around her because of her voice being so gentle and sweet, but she's my sister, we've been through a lot, and no matter how much she scoffs at my sarcasm and how much I hate her being so nice, I still love her.

"STAY CALM???!!! HOW CAN I STAY CALM?!!!! I KILLED EVERYONE IN THE DORM!!!!" I yell at my aunt, my rage fully consuming my body.

"You didn't kill them, Vincent," my uncle, Dr. Caroll, states, coming up beside my aunt. "You merely knocked them out for a few hours."

"NO!!! I _KILLED _THEM! I KNOW THEY'RE DEAD!!! _STOP_ _LYING TO ME!_"

I'm going insane. I'm absolutely mad. Austin stares at me again, her eyes beginning to fill with tears.

"What are _you_ crying about?!" I hiss at her through clenched teeth, attempting to lower my voice.

"I'm crying because I think this time I lost you for good!" she sobs, covering her eyes. She leans against my aunt. "Mrs. Caroll? Is it happening? Is he going through that change that man told us about?

"I don't know, dear. I truly do not know," Mrs. Caroll replies softly, wrapping her arms around Austin.

"What are you talking about _change?_" I snarl. "I haven't changed. This is just one of my transformations! Nothing serious!" I am so glad that I have my conscious mind again.

"Oh, Vincent," Dr. Caroll says, his eyes downcast, avoiding mine. "It is serious. We have no idea how and when this is supposed to happen."

"When _what_ is supposed too happen?!" I ask harshly. They are going in circles with this change! Are they talking about the Lucifer thing? Did they know about it? "Lucifer…" I murmur to myself, moving my shoulders.

"Lucifer…" Dr. Caroll seems to agree with me. He looks at me, his green eyes shadowed with sorrow. "Vincent, I'm sorry about not telling you what you are. Your father and I agreed that it shouldn't be-"

"Forget it. I don't have to listen to this."

With amazing strength, I rip the leather straps from me and jump off the table, landing on my knees. I ignore the pain of the tile hitting my knees.

"Vincent!" I run out of the place, taking flight as I do so, my wings fully expanding to their full wing-span. The air gathers underneath them, pushing me upward. The wind whips in my face, my hair flying everywhere. I hardly fly anymore so this is rather new to me. I totter from left to right until I regain my balance once more.

What is wrong with me?

TOUCHDOWN

After calming down quite a bit and getting my thoughts together, I land in the snow. My wings disappear and I go back to normal.

One would think that I should be quite cold after flying at a high altitude in the winter, but I'm really not. I feel good actually. After all of that boiling anger, the cold feels quite relaxing.

And this whole "You are the next Lucifer, Vincent" thing is really bugging me. I _cannot_ be the next Lucifer. It is impossible. I am too… human?

LUCIFER

I lay back in the snow, attempting to concentrate on my supposed future. My humanity returns, my wings disappearing and my hair retreating back to its normal state. The good thin about becoming human again is that it is quite painless.

_Lucifer huh?_ I think. _How can I be Lucifer if I don't even have the same name?_

There is a Lucifer on campus. He's really quiet, moody, and he looks like a demon, sort of. He wears a cross around his neck though; and large cross earrings.

Speak of the devil, here he comes.

Lucifer is about 6'1," sturdy, black-and-gold-haired, and dressed in all black: black pants, black shirt with a large gray cross on the front, and a long black cloak over his clothes. The cloak swishes as he walks towards me. He stops right next to me. He stares down at my face, his auburn eyes clear.

"Greetings, Vincent," he states calmly, sitting down next to me in the snow.

"Hi," I return the greeting, attempting not to let my fear leak through my voice. If he is the previous Lucifer, I shall not let him think that I am unworthy. If this is my destiny, I have to accept it as it is, no matter the stakes. I have to do this right if I'm going to do this, though I do not wish to. "Um… what's up?" I hardly talk to Lucifer, for I always found him kind of creepy, but I have hung out with one of his friends before he graduated last year, my weapons specialist buddy Lucas.

"Not much. I'm enjoying the snow. Most of the time my body is out of control with heat and I absolutely cannot stand it. But I'm sure you have the same problems," he replies, lying back in the snow.

"Yeah… I have been lately," I agree. I can feel myself shaking inside my skin. "When did you start having the problems?"

"A long time ago. It was soon after my sixteenth birthday as a matter of fact," Lucifer answers.

"But aren't you only seventeen?" I ask. I hear that the Lucifer is immortal once he becomes Lucifer. But when his time is up, he dies, just like that.

Lucifer turns to look me in the eye. He looks over the brim of his spectacles.

"Vincent, I am over a thousand years old."

_So he _is _the Lucifer,_ I think.

He turns back to the sky. "I just _look_ like I am still seventeen. Haven't you been having these issues since you were sixteen?"

"Well, not really. But I have been having a lot of hot flashes and stuff. But I haven't transformed this randomly since I was thirteen. How do you know about my problems?"

Why do I ask a question I already know the answer to?

"Because I am just as my name suggests. And I know that you will be the same soon. My millennium is up. It's time that the next Lucifer takes over. That's why you are here," he states simply. He folds his arms behind his head.

"What if I don't want to be what you are?"

Lucifer chuckles lightly.

"Do you seriously think you have a choice?" he laughs. "Do you think I had a choice? I had a life, Vincent. I had to give up my life just for this role in life I had to play. A.D.1000 was the worst year of my life. I had to give up the one I loved because I couldn't marry he and bear to see her die in front of me as she aged and I didn't. I left my home. I had to change my name to Lucifer." His eyes looked distant and his voice trailed away."

"I never realized that-"

"That I had a life? I am not just limited to the outside. I was not the same person I am today. But soon, I will leave, and I will not return. You will- you will take my place in this world, no matter how much you wish against it. Be strong. Accept who you are, and everything should be fine." He stands up, turning to me with a small smile and walks away, his cloak flowing behind him.

I stare after him, my eyes wide. Talking to him somehow helped me with this. He's a surprisingly good person to go to. I never knew anything about him, but now I think I know more about him than anyone else. After all, we are both of the same destinies.

So now I know the truth. Now I know what I am. I have a purpose, not necessarily a good purpose, but it's my purpose. And now, I must go on to do what I have to do and be what I have to be, no matter how anyone else feels about it. I must accept my fate.

I must accept my destiny.


End file.
